Raki is walking home at night, exhausted from partying. It unexpectedly starts to rain, and someone suggests a shortcut down an underground passageway. There, he encounters a woman who forces herself upon him in a moment of opportunity and sensuality.
Trigger Alert™: If you leave your seat while reading this story, it will release the pressure mechanism of the C4 bomb I planted underneath while you weren't looking. The terrorists will win the round, and you'll make me lose my 50£ bet I put on the CTs (Counter-Terrorist team) defusing the bomb in time, ja. "Stay frosty soldier!" Col. Hicks would tell you.

Raki is walking home at night, exhausted from partying. It unexpectedly starts to rain, and someone suggests a shortcut down an underground passageway. There, he encounters a woman who forces herself upon him in a moment of opportunity and sensuality.

Trigger Alert™: If you leave your seat while reading this story, it will release the pressure mechanism of the C4 bomb I planted underneath while you weren't looking. The terrorists will win the round, and you'll make me lose my 50£ bet I put on the CTs (Counter-Terrorist team) defusing the bomb in time, ja. "Stay frosty soldier!" Col. Hicks would tell you.

Send Reading Invitation Mail

Chapter1 (v.1) - Tintarella Di Luna

Raki is walking home at night, exhausted from partying. It unexpectedly starts to rain, and someone suggests a shortcut down an underground passageway. There, he encounters a woman who forces herself upon him in a moment of opportunity and sensuality.
Trigger Alert™: If you leave your seat while reading this story, it will release the pressure mechanism of the C4 bomb I planted underneath while you weren't looking. The terrorists will win the round, and you'll make me lose my 50£ bet I put on the CTs (Counter-Terrorist team) defusing the bomb in time, ja.

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: July 24, 2013

Reads: 1483

Comments: 2

AAA
|
AAA

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: July 24, 2013

AAA

AAA

Tintarella Di Luna- by QDesjardin

1

The night is still sweet when Raki exits the apartment building by Rue des
Rosiers street. He's quite tired, yet sweaty and hot from the dancing to house music; you could have smelled the pheromones coming off of the other guests, it was wonderful.

Now the outside air is a breath of freshness as he strides down the street, the
orange streetlamps illuminating the way and making dark shadows upon the sidewalk. His thoughts are filled with those incredible moments he had - while he was playing Battlefield beside two others
on the provided laptops, the two others beside him were practically screaming into their headsets. Their masculine exclamations of joy and rage which were a sort of catharsis.

His own home is within a walkable distance. But it takes quite a while though,
and he could smell the ozone just before the rain. Maybe he could ask for a taxi..

Then before he knows it, the raindrops drench the entire street,
pitter-pattering, and it's so frigid, like one of those cold showers in the morning. Brrr.

He's just halfway there when there's someone hiding under the shelter of the
bus stop. He passes by--

"Hey, are you headed down for Rue de Rivoli?" that someone
asks.

"Oui," Raki goes.

"There's an underground passageway you can take," that someone says, pointing
down that direction. "It'll get you to the bouquet shops on the other side. And it's got heating too."

"Merci!" Raki says, and he dawdles over where he finds a concrete stairway
plunging a level below - the violet sign above it reads 'PASSAGE' in glowing letters. It looks a little dark. He goes down the wet steps, holding onto the handrail so he doesn't
slip.

It's actually quite warm here; he can hear the low hum of the ventilation,
pushing heated air through the vents lining the ground - it smells almost like the humid aquarium at the zoo. He rounds around a corner where he sees the passageway stretching forth, lit by an
ultraviolet light which makes his white shirt glow. He strides along over the vents, letting the warm air blow up his pants, and it would feel good on his wet skin.

His steps reverb down the tunnel as he hears faintly the whisk of traffic which
passes by overhead.

Then he sees the figure of someone, emerging from the shadowy darkness up
ahead. It is that of a woman, just a tad shorter than he is. Her ornate garb catches his eye - the cape billows to her knees, caressing around her form while in front, her red dress clothes her
breasts and torso, leaving her shoulders and cleavage bare and naked. With her deliberate and measured strides, her black combat boots clack deeply upon the concrete.

It looks as if she has stepped out of one of those fashion
magazines.

She's quite captivating to the eyes - it makes Raki blush a little, and he
tries pretending not to notice, hoping that she doesn't get embarassed by his stares. Who is that woman anyways?

Then, just as he is about to pass by her, she stops for a moment. "Excuse me--
monsieur?" Her voice is quite low, and Raki gazes at her, seeing the whites of her eyes glow like his shirt.

"Hallo," he innocently goes.

"I'm wondering.." She pauses for a bit, glancing down. "Are you in the mood for
some chocolate?"

"Chocolate?" he says.

"Mhm, chocolate," she goes, taking a step closer towards him. "I just bought a
box of Belgian chocolates.. and now I'm looking for someone to share them with."

Raki wonders if he heard her right. "Hm.. is this like one of those advertising
gigs?" he asks her. "Where you're hoping that I have some money at hand to give away to you?"

"Non.." she goes, her voice turning into a half-whisper. "This is for free,
actually."

Then she approaches him, getting startlingly close to him, and she rests her
delicate hands on his shoulders, rubbing them. It is so surreal, what is happening, and Raki seems distraught as to what he should do in this moment, when she is caressing him, her hands now
sliding up to his neck, and she is leaning in for a kiss.. he could feel her breath..

Then he pushes her away.

"Lemme go!" he shouts, panting. He is beginning to feel tingly inside; it's
so.. it's a pervy feeling. "What-- what do you really want?!"

The woman blinks, regaining herself in the solemnity of this lonesome corridor,
and then she smiles - she shoves Raki hard against the wall, and she brandishes a pocket knife (*flick*)-- the blade presses against his throat, while she holds his chest with her other
arm.

"What do I want..?" she whispers; there's a kind of sultriness which underlies
her voice, more visibly emerging now. "What I want.." From her dress, she pulls out a petite piece of chocolate, shaped like a heart. She holds it out for him to see. "What I really,
really want.. is for you to eat this chocolate.. with me. It'll be wonderful, I promise."

Raki glances at the chocolate - surely it won't hurt. He just nods his head in
answer. Her blade's pressure is aching and the heat of the vents is starting to burn on his shoes.

The woman puts the piece into her mouth, holding it whole by her lips. The
other half of the piece is for him, and she comes in to his mouth. She's like a mother bird who dangles a worm for her little darlings.

Slowly, he accepts her chocolate. He wraps his mouth around the visible half,
and his lips inevitably touch hers in a kiss.

In their saliviating mouths, the chocolate dissolves.

They slowly chew upon its sweetness. It sparks their very tongues, slipping
down their throats in a mixture of cocoa and wet saliva, and when the chocolate has gone, she is still kissing him as tenderly as she could, making him drown with her in sensation, her tongue
dancing along with his. A touch of their saliva spills out their mouths, dripping down Raki's chin. The woman's moans seem to come from someplace deep within her; that place which an equally deep
aching in him wishes to touch.

For some reason, Raki is gradually starting to feel light-headed (in a
beautiful way). Like in those moments when he'd stare at the clouds amidst the infinitely blue sky from the Eiffel Tower, and it would make him want to choke up inside, that suffocating
aching.

He almost passes out.

The woman notices his eyes which are rolling up, and she pulls back from the
kiss - their mutual saliva dripping down, resting on her chest. She sees him recovering his breath, panting in and out through his mouth.

"When it's a very long kiss," she tells him, "you should try breathing in
through the nose. Though I don't mind the fact that you're exhaling into my mouth.. I find it cute, actually." She smiles. He'd never realised she has some dark lipstick on. "Do you have someplace
you urgently need to be?" she asks him.

He was thinking of falling into the comfort of his own fluffy bed, but
now..

"Non.." he tells her.

"Bien. That is good," she says. She relaxes the knife at his throat and puts it
away. "Because this might take quite a while.."

Then with one hand, she cups Raki under the armpit (gee, he's sweaty), while
she rests the other around his neck. She kisses him a little more, leaning him against the wall, and she makes him slide down.. his back down the wall, inclining his motions as she bends her knees,
holding him, until she has him sitting by the edge, with her kneeling down in-between his spread legs.

The ventilation's hot air billows upon the both of them, blowing away the
coldness of the rain from outside.

She notices his bulge protruding against his jeans. How it makes her heart
flutter! His poor thing.. it's confined inside those tight jeans. While he is gazing away at her, she slowly reaches her fingers under his shirt and feels for his belt. From experience, she knows
that just unzipping his pants would only have him chafing terribly against the corrugated edges during the motions. So it's better to slide his pants down.. just a little bit.

She frees his belt by blind touch, brushing the straps aside, and then
unbuckles his button - she hears the soft zip when she pulls down ("Zippy..!" she mutters to herself; she never quite liked jeans. They're so stiff to move around in.) and
then..

Through the soft, cotton fabric of his underwear, she feels the contours of his
genitals. She gropes around the testicles, seeing him wince a little from her touch, and then she gradually searches her way up his shaft, inch by inch - maybe it is ticklish for him - until she
feels how wet he is around his tip.

"Oh.. my..!" she goes, delighted.

Raki can only guess what she's wanting to do next, but a sudden squeeze brings
his attention to her hand. Her manicured nails are impeccable.